


Belong

by starry_mist



Category: Hudson & Rex (TV)
Genre: Charah - friendship, Developing Relationship, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Senses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-12 04:33:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 2,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29254518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starry_mist/pseuds/starry_mist
Summary: They don't need to define it. What they have is special.
Relationships: Charlie Hudson/Sarah Truong (Hudson & Rex)
Comments: 52
Kudos: 23





	1. Home

**Author's Note:**

> I know I have multiple fics on the go, but this came to me as the product of a sensory writing exercise and I ran with it. Title subject to change because I'm not in love with it. Rating probably will stay at an M, it's mostly just alluding to what's happening between them in certain chapters rather than anything super-explicit.

Looking back, they could never be sure exactly when it happened. The shift came naturally, from coworkers, to friends, to this. What this is, is something undefined. They don’t need to define it. What they have is special.

They spend long hours on cases that often follow them home. More specifically, to his home. She tells herself it’s because he asks for her help on a file he would have brought home anyway. (She tries not to think too much about the sense of comfort, of familiarity, of belonging here with him.) He has more space. He has the big dog who often joins them on the sofa, or lays on his bed, dutifully keeping an eye on them.

Long gone is the half-unpacked man cave where she helped him fix his pipes, where they occasionally shared pizza and a few beers while trying to piece together evidence. The place where they started spending more time together outside of work. They have fond memories from that place, of game nights, movie nights, whatever other reasons Jesse always concocted to help the team unwind.

The movie nights and the game nights continue. But they still find those times when it’s just the two (Rex would huff at this thought, it’s three) of them. Late nights, takeout containers, the easy laughter of two friends enjoying each other’s company. She doesn’t mention how she still feels so alone in her own house. She doesn’t feel that way here. It’s welcoming, inviting.

At first he would ask her over. Eventually it was a given that she’d be there. Following him home after a particularly difficult case, or coming by for their regular runs together. She was initially a little more tentative, always knocking, always respecting the invisible boundary between them. (That boundary had long since eroded. They don’t question it.) She has a spare key. She doesn’t ever use it. He always invites her in.

He has a guest room now. Sometimes she stays overnight. They make excuses. It was late, they needed to be on the road early for a case, they’d had a few drinks. (They don’t need excuses.) He appreciates having her in his space. More often than not, she ends up moving to his bed during the night. It’s become an unspoken agreement.

Neither question that at some point she’s left behind a change of clothes, a spare toothbrush, some pajamas. Where and when they came from is anyone’s guess.


	2. Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was the easiest one to start writing, but the hardest to edit. I think I kept the general gist of what I was going for.

Touch was once tentative, unfamiliar between them. Slowly they end up more comfortable in each other’s space. Then the freezer happens, and he pulls her close to him in a desperate attempt to keep them both warm. The mine collapses around them, and they hold tightly to each other’s hands in the darkness. (They try not to think about those experiences. They think about them far too often.) It’s different now. Touch has become their constant.

They sit on the sofa, TV on. Legs stretch out next to each other on the coffee table. He slides an arm around her, she leans into his shoulder. He takes her hand in his, interlaces their fingers. He was never good at physically showing affection. He wonders when that changed. It’s easier now, when they’re alone. (It’s easier, because it’s her.)

Her hand comes to rest on his chest, feeling the strong beat of his heart. She can’t help but think of the times he’s come so close to danger, so close to losing that strong pulse. He covers her hand with his own, as if he knows her thoughts. He trails his thumb along the soft skin, soothing, comforting.

She wraps her arms around him when she needs to, and when she knows he needs her to. (He’ll never say it outright, but he appreciates it every time.) He holds her close to him. He buries his face in the softness of her hair. Her fingers graze his cheek, coming to rest on his shoulder.

Her neck is often tense from days spent hunched over microscopes, case files, evidence spread out on a table in her lab. He sweeps her hair aside and kneads away the knots. (He reminds her to unclench her jaw, to relax her shoulders. Occasionally she listens.)

A particularly emotional case leaves them both shaken. It’s a given that they’ll leave together, she’ll follow his car in her own. They enter the house together, the dog, as always, by their side. Locking doors, turning off lights, they end up in his bedroom. They stand together, clinging to each other, neither wanting to let go. A few tears escape her. His hands find her face, thumbs chasing them away. He plants soft kisses on her cheeks in silent reassurance. If their lips meet briefly in the near-darkness, perhaps they don’t acknowledge it just yet, but they don’t pull away. It doesn’t have to mean anything. (It means everything.)

Lying in bed, they reach for each other in the dark. (Some nights they make love. It’s another unspoken agreement. They don’t analyze it too much, yet.) Often they wake in the morning tangled together, a perfect fit. They accept it. It feels right. It is right.


	3. Smell

She steals his shirts. If asked, she’d probably say she was “borrowing” them. He doesn’t ask.

It starts as needing something to sleep in on those first nights she stays over. As more of her own clothes end up at his house, it seems less necessary.

She may have a few of his well-worn sweatshirts at home. Occasionally she “returns” them when she comes by to run with him. He laughs. He’s on to her. She makes excuses. It was cold. (It smelled like him.)

Her light, floral scent lingers on his sheets. The mornings he wakes up alone, he hugs her pillow to him. (Yes, it’s officially her pillow.) It’s intoxicating.

Her shampoo and body wash end up in his shower. For after their runs. For the mornings she wakes up in his embrace, laughing as he snoozes the alarm to hold her for a little while longer, protesting that they’ll be late. (They never are.)

Late into the evening, he lays back against the armrest of the couch, gathering her into his arms. She relaxes against him, inhaling deeply. She’s surrounded by him. She peacefully drifts off to sleep. He doesn’t wake her. He pulls a blanket over them both. He buries his face in her hair, breathing her in. He ghosts his lips over her forehead. She stirs slightly, a gentle nudge, her nose brushing against the light stubble along his jawline. He smells like home.


	4. Taste

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggled with this one, until I remembered coffee. Coffee solves everything.

There’s a stash of her flavoured coffees in his kitchen. He learned long ago that she runs on the stuff, and has made sure to add her favourites to his grocery list.

He’s always been a pretty simple guy when it comes to coffee, preferring a dark roast, with just a splash of cream or milk. (He has admittedly tried one or two of her blends now. He can see the appeal.)

She’s wearing his shirt. It landed on the floor sometime last night in a frantic rush to get closer to each other. He thinks he has never seen anything sexier than her standing there in nothing but his shirt, sipping her coffee, an expression of pure contentment on her face.

He is overcome with the need to kiss her. He goes to her, takes the mug and sets it aside. Her eyes sparkle as her arms come around his neck. He captures her lips with his own. She tastes like chocolate and coffee and _her._

The first time they made love he wanted to kiss every inch of her. That hasn’t changed. (It’s become a given that they’re sleeping together.) He takes his time, he savours her, drinks her in. His mouth finds her centre, her now-familiar taste, as she quivers beneath him.

She lightly grazes her teeth along his jaw, his chin, landing at his pulse point, sucking lightly, not hard enough to leave a mark. Their coworkers don’t yet know that their relationship has changed. (They totally do.) She cries out against the flesh of his shoulder as he hits a spot deep within her that brings her to the peak of pleasure.

They go to dinner. It feels like a date. It might be a date. (It’s definitely a date.) The food is delicious. They order dessert, and when she reaches up to kiss him as they leave the restaurant, he tastes like red wine and chocolate and _him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, fine, I write smut now. Whatever. ;)


	5. See

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was another challenging one. Enjoy.

His eyes are the most striking shade of blue. His eyes were the first thing she noticed about him. She sees so much emotion expressed in his eyes. The twinkle he gets when they start a new case and his wheels start turning. The empathy, the caring, when he interviews the family of a victim. (His eyes darken with desire as he crashes his mouth into hers, picking her up as she wraps her legs around him and they stumble toward the bedroom.)

For the longest time, when he smiled, it didn’t always reach his eyes. He’d been burned in the past, and he held his heart close, walled off, protected from future pain. Bit by bit, she chipped away at that wall until it came down. His heart belongs to her. (Her heart belongs to him.)

A warm summer day. His eyes sparkle as he watches her run in the park, throwing a frisbee and laughing when the dog leaps to catch it in his mouth. She catches him staring, and flashes him a playful smile.

Her smile lights up her face. Her smile was the first thing he noticed about her. At first, it was sometimes hesitant, perhaps a little shy as she settled in and found her place with the team. There’s no more hesitation. Now there’s the genuine smile when he visits her in the lab, brings her coffee, asks for her help on a case. The smile of relief when he makes it back from yet another dangerous situation in one piece. (The tiny smile paired with the sultry look she gives him as she straddles him on the couch, grabbing a fistful of his half-unbuttoned shirt to pull him close to her.)

He’s captivated by the sight of her with the dog, of the bond they share. She’s the only woman the dog has allowed into their lives. He appreciates what that means.

They run back over to him. He looks deep in thought. Her eyes turn questioning. (They have entire conversations with their eyes. Jesse says it’s weird. They laugh.)

She smiles up at him. He loves when that smile is directed at him. He loves her. He tells her so. (She already knows.) Her smile grows as she tells him she loves him too. (He already knows.) The dog barks happily as the two of them share a passionate kiss, lost in each other’s embrace.


	6. Hear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's...it's exactly what you think it is.

The gentle rustling of clothing.

Skin meets skin.

He walks her backward. Her knees buckle as they meet the bed. She laughs.

The gentle rustling of blankets.

He hovers over her, kissing, touching every inch of flesh.

Soft sighs in the dark.

He reaches a spot that elicits a giggle. He does it again. He does it on purpose. She gives him a playful swat. He laughs.

She finds his lips in the darkness. A moan escapes him, swallowed by her own.

He breathes her name. Her own breath catches in her throat.

More sighs.

More moans.

The rhythm of hips snapping together.

Whispers of love in the darkness, murmured against skin.

She cries his name, over and over.

A grunt of pleasure as he follows where she leads him.

Breathing heavily, they come down together.

More gentle rustling of bedsheets.

They settle together under the covers.

Longer sighs.

More soft words of love.

Their breathing slows.

They rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter coming soon, promise.


	7. Home, Again

A man returns to his hometown. Heartbroken. Lost. Adrift.

A dog loses his best friend. Heartbroken. Lost. Adrift.

They find each other.

A woman takes a chance on a new opportunity. She leaves a large piece of her life behind. Nervous. But hopeful.

They find each other.

The shift happens naturally. Healing. Settling. An easy friendship. A deeper bond. A lasting love.

An evening in early fall. They sit in the yard, dog running happily. The sun sets over the water.

He turns to her. He asks her to move in. To make this their home.

She laughs. Not at him, but at the idea, reminding him that she basically lives here already. He laughs as he realizes she’s right. (He is her home. She is his.)

The shift happens naturally. Boxes arrive and are quickly unpacked. Furniture blends together, new art adorns the walls.

Winter begins to melt into spring.

A candlelit dinner at home. She doesn’t know what the occasion is. He smiles innocently, do they need an occasion? They eat together, laugh together, their usual easy conversation.

She gets up, ready to clear the dishes. She catches his movement in the dim light.

He’s down on one knee in front of her. She gasps. He takes her hand in his.

(Of course she says yes.)

Little moments can shape and define a life.

Everything leads to something.

They’re right where they belong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for coming on this journey with me. This started as an exercise in exploring different types of writing and ended very differently than I had pictured.
> 
> In case anyone's curious about the title (which I hated at first, but stuck with), the song Belong by X Ambassadors (yes, the one from the Jeep commercial, I'm weird okay?) was running through my head for several days, and somehow it led me here. (I borrowed two lines from it at the end just to tie things up.)
> 
> Anyway, new chapters of Things Fall Apart hopefully coming soon, and whatever else happens to pop into my head in the meantime. (Expect tropes. I'm really committed to the idea of doing THERE'S ONE BED, I just haven't worked it out yet.)
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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